Discovering Stella (34 page)

Sliding
my
hand back
into
the
front
of his pants, I was just about to pop the
button
on
his jeans when the
phone
rang.
Crap!
I slowly began to retract
my
hand,
but
he stopped me.
“Don’t
worry about it. The answering machine
will
get
it.”

I raised
my
eyebrow and coupled
it
with
an
amused expression while sliding
my
hand back down to grasp his hard length.
“But
it
might be important.”

“Princess, your hand around
my
cock is
more
important.”

My
grip tightened and
my
eyes fluttered when his lips met mine once
more,
the irrelevant ringing of the
phone
cut short when
Lawson’s
voice
sounded from the answering machine.
He
groaned
into my
mouth
as
his hands cupped
my
face.

“Drake!”
an
angry
man wailed through the speaker of the machine.
“Pick
up.
We
got a
problem
with the last
parts
shipment.”

“Fuck,”
Lawson groaned yet again, except this time his
tone
wasn’t
one
of lust. “Shit! I gotta get this.”

I released
my
hand and held both up in the air in a
show
of surrender.
“Told
you.”

“This,” he said, pointing from him to me
as
he walked
back
ward toward the
workshop,
“will resume
as
soon
as
I get
back.”

I smiled and turned
on my
heel. “Sure
it
will.”

*
 
*
 
*

What felt like
an
hour
later,
but
was
probably
a
lot
less
than
that, Lawson still
hadn’t
returned from the
workshop.
I’d been immersed in
my
book about
an
office romance and felt
it
was time to get up and stretch. I also wanted to see what was keeping him from ‘resuming’ what we’d started.

As
I made
my
way
out
of the office, past the
supply
room and
into
the
workshop,
I
couldn’t
see him anywhere. I could,
how
ever,
hear muffled
talking
coming from
outside
and behind the building. Curious, I quietly continued in that direction only to recognise the muffled voices to be those of Lawson and
Vicky,
their
angry
tones
leaving no
doubt
that they were having
an
argument. I paused, unsure whether
or
not
to take a few steps closer so that I could eavesdrop, and perhaps get a sneak peek,
or
whether to go back to the office and run
awful
scenarios around in
my
head.
As
much
as
option
two was
probably
the right thing to
do,
I
couldn’t
do it. I was only human after
all
and, sad to
say,
I was also
my
own worst
enemy
and highly inquisitive.

Stepping up to the tin shed door that led
out
to the yard, I peered through the crack,
careful
to keep myself hidden. Lawson was standing with his arms crossed
over
his chest, his demeanour annoyed and unrelenting. Vicky was leaning against the shed
wall
with
one
leg
bent
and resting against it.
She
was fidgeting with
her
fingers, agitated.

“Lawson, please! Just give me another chance.
I’ve
changed.
I’m
not
doin’
ice any
more.
I’m
clean.
I’m
not
even smoking
pot,”
she said, timidly.

My
stomach churned with dread at the thought of him
leav
ing me, wanting to give
her
another chance. They had history
...
memories.

He
appeared to deliberately
avoid
eye contact with
her,
his determined stance unwavering.
“I
don’t
believe
you.”

Vicky pushed off the wall, stepped up to him and grabbed his face. “Look at me,
damn
it. Why
won’t
you
look at me?”

His eyes met hers and glared. They showed what I thought to be anger, hurt and disappointment.
“I
don’t
want to look at
you.”

She
started to
cry
and clenched
her
fingers
into
his jaw before letting go and
taking
a few steps back. “Why? Why is
it
so hard to look at me?
It
was a mistake. I said I was
sorry.”

“I
know
you
did and I believe you,
but it
doesn’t
change anything between us.
This,”
he said, sizing
her
up with his hand, “this is
not
the Vicky I
know.
Not
the Vicky I once loved. If
you
really have stopped
trying
to
kill
yourself, then
I’m
glad.
Real
fucking glad,
but
it’s
not
going to mean
you
and I pick up where we left off.
We
are
done,
Vic.”

I let
out
a breath,
my
heart rate slowly settling to
an
even beat.

Vicky approached Lawson yet again, grabbed the collar of his t-shirt and cried harder. “Please,
Law.
I need you. I miss you. I
love
you.
It’s
always been
you.”

“No,
it
hasn’t.
You
seem to forget
that,”
he said, his determination wavering just slightly
as
he gently pried
her
hands loose and kept a
hold
of them in
front
of him. “Look,
you
and I were
over
before
you
slept with Leigh. I know it;
you
know it.
We
are dif
ferent
people. I
moved on.
You
need to do the
same.”

“She
can’t
make
you
happy like I
can,”
Vicky
implored,
yanking
her
hands free and wiping the tears from
her
face.
“She
can’t!”

“She
can
and she does.
More
so.
I’m
sorry,
Vic.
You
need to accept that we are no
more.
If
you
did that, then perhaps we could be friends. Until then, I
can’t
do this with you. Stella is in
my
office, waiting
for
me. I
shouldn’t
be
out here
discussing this with you. I should be in there with
her.
You
need to
leave,”
he advised, empathetically.

I
didn’t
need to hear any
more.
I’d heard
more
than
what I rightfully should’ve, so I quickly made
my
way back to the office and tried
my
hardest to
pretend
I was oblivious to what had just transpired.

Moments
later,
Lawson came
into
the office.
 
His posture was slumped and his eyes lacked the enthusiastic glint they’d sported
prior
to him leaving — he looked defeated. Had I no
prior
knowledge of his altercation with
Vicky,
I’d say he was just downhearted from his initial, draining
phone
call.
But
I knew better.

“Sorry,
Princess. I got tied up with
some
shit,”
he half-confessed, sitting his arse
on
the edge of his desk.
“You
ready to go?”

I nodded and stood
up.
“Sure,”
I said
as
enthusiastically
as
I could, which
now,
after the argument I’d secretly witnessed, was much easier said
than
done.

*
 
*
 
*

The drive was a little quiet.
It
was also strange. The kind of strange where two people have a
silent
discussion
over not
hav
ing a discussion in the first place.
It
was also obvious,
due
to the lack of conversation and avoidance of eye contact, that he knew I was aware of what had delayed his return back to the office. Either that,
or
I was terribly paranoid.
Yet
neither of us could break the ice and just get
it
out
in the open.
It
really was silly
but
I guess,
for
me,
it
was the guilt
over my
eavesdropping that kept me quiet. I really
didn’t
want to admit that mistake to him, even though I thought he already knew. I felt bad enough
as
it
was.

“You
heard us,
didn’t
you,”
Lawson said, his question
more
of a statement. “Sorry if
it
has upset you.
But
unfortunately, Vicky is a part of
my
past, and until she realises that, she
will
pop up
here
and there.
It’s
in
her
nature.
She
doesn’t
give in. So
I’m
sorry.
I just hope
you
can
trust me where she is concerned.
That’s
all
I
can
say.”

I turned to face him and took in his honest,
but
defeated, posture.
He
didn’t
deserve the stress and pressure Vicky was placing
upon
him. Therefore, I sucked down
my
pride and fear and placed
my
hand
on
his leg.
“Okay.
I trust
you.”

Berry picking is berry fun

Hearing Stella say that she trusted me was pretty fucking awesome.
Not
that I was untrustworthy
or
anything, because I was
...
trust
worthy. It
was
more
that she was showing me
how
invested in the two of us she really was —
her
trust showed me she was committed. I nodded and dropped
my
hand from the steering wheel,
cover
ing hers. “Good,
“cause you
have nothing to worry
about.”

“Do
you
think she was telling the truth about being clean?” Stella asked, a little
hesitantly,
sounding uncertain
as
to whether
or
not
to
talk
to me about
Vicky.
If that was the case she
needn’t
worry.
Talk
ing about
my
ex
didn’t
really bother me. Vicky was water under the bridge.
Old
news
...
a used
condom.
Fuck! That was a little too harsh. I take that back.

Despite
Vic
now
being
in
my
past, I
didn’t
like
seeing
her
so mis
erable
and
fucked
up.
I
wasn’t
a heartless bastard and, in fact,
at
the beginning
of
Vicky’s
downward
spiral,
I had
tried
to
help
her,
but
got
absolutely nowhere. She
was, and
always
would
be,
her
own
stubborn-as-fuck
person,
and
she
wasn’t
my responsibility
any
more.
But
I
did
worry
about
her
state
of
mind,
because as
much
as the two
of
us
were
over,
I
didn’t
want
to
see
her
harmed in
any
way.

“Yeah,
I think
she’s
off the drugs,
but
I’m
not
convinced
it
has been
for
very
long. Her
idea of being clean is
more
like
not
touching the stuff in under twenty-four
hours.”

“Huh,”
Stella replied, then looked
out
of the
window.

“Why? What do
you
think?
You’re
a nurse, do
you
think
she’s
clean?”

“Correction —
was
a nurse. And
no,
I
don’t
think
she’s
been off them
for
long
at
all,”
Stella admitted,
honestly.
“You
do realise she
won’t
be able to do
it on
her
own. She’ll need
help.
Does she have family?”

I nodded.
“She
lives with
her
younger sister in their grandpar
ents’
house, just
out
of town. And
her
parents live
on
a property roughly fifteen kilometres up the road from
there.”

“Do they know about
her
drug
problem?”

I
moved my
hand from its
position on top
of hers and placed
it on
the steering wheel in
order
to manoeuvre
my
car
into
the driveway of Pittstown Strawberry Farm.
“Her
sister knows and I think
her
parents suspect the drug use,
too. But
as
far
as
I
know,
no
one
has ever said anything.
It’s
as
if
she’s
too much of
an
inconvenience to deal
with.”
I
stole
a quick glance at Stella,
her
pensive stare
out
the window
not
conveying
her
deep thoughts.
“But
anyway, enough of
Vicky,
she’s
not
my
concern.
You
are, and I want this day to be about
us,”
I said, smiling boldly at
her,
my
plans
for
the day ahead exciting me.

She
laughed, furrowed
her
brow
suspiciously, and then looked everywhere through the
Ute’s
windows.
“Okay,
but
I
don’t
think
I’ve
seen
you
this excited since we met. And
we’re
at a strawberry farm, soooo
...”

My
smile widened.
“That’s
because
you
haven’t
seen me this excited. And yes, Princess, I give
you my
favourite place in the
whole
wide
world.”
I gestured to our surroundings before
park
ing and turning off the
motor.
Removing
my
seatbelt, I
hopped
out
and jogged around to
Stella’s
door,
opening
it
for
her
like the perfect gentleman.
“I
hope
you
like strawberries,
but
if
you
don’t,
I hope
you
like picking them,
‘cause
Todd
and Meg have
put
in their
order.”

Stella took
my
hand and climbed
out
of the Ute.
“We’re
pick
ing strawberries?” she asked with a curious smile.

“Yep!”

I eagerly took
hold
of
her
hand and led
her
to the
farm’s
reception office, opening the door and directing
her
to
enter.

Judy,
the strawberry farm
owner,
looked up from
her
position behind the cash register.
“Hello,
can
I
help
— Lawson!” she remarked happily when she spotted that
her
customer was, in fact, me.
“I
swear
you
are going to eat me
out
of
my
entire crop this
season.”

“Then
plant
more
crops,”
I advised, like the smartarse that I was.

Judy
shook
her
head, then directed
her
attention
to Stella.
“And
who do we have
here?”
she asked in a happy
but
curious
tone.

“This is Stella,
my
girlfriend.”

Stella’s
grip tightened around
my
hand at the same time
as
Judy’s
eyebrows nearly hit the
roof.
What? Is it so hard to believe I have a beautiful girlfriend?

Lifting our entwined fingers to
my
lips, I kissed
Princess’s
knuckles while winking at
her,
taking
note
of
her
beautifully flushed cheeks.
Someone is a little embarrassed.

“Why,
hello,
Stella.”
Judy
beamed.
“Such
a
pleasure
to
meet
you.”
To
say that
Judy
was
overdoing
the fucking sweet-as-pie
rou
tine was
an
understatement. The fact I’d brought
my
girlfriend
with me certainly
wasn’t
lost
on
her,
judging by
her
pleased-as-punch expression and singsong
tone
of
voice.

Letting go of
my
hand, Stella held hers
out
to
Judy.
“Likewise. Pleased to meet you. This is a
lovely
place
you
have
here,”
she said
as
she twisted around, craning
her
neck and spying
all
the painted cartoon characters of strawberries that spanned the roof and walls.

“Thank you, we
straw
do
love
our strawberries,”
Judy
explained comically, laughing at
her
own
stupid
joke. “
Berry
much,
in
fact.”

Stella laughed along with
her,
which made me roll
my
eyes at the two of them.

“Oh,
come
on,
Toad,
don’t
be a sourpuss.
It’s
berry
rude!” Stella added with a giggle, nudging me
on
the arm.

I
bit
the inside of
my
cheek to suppress a laugh. Bringing Stella
here
was a big deal
for
me. I’d never brought
anyone
to the strawberry farm before, only ever having come
here
with two other people: Mum and Meg.
Let’s
just say that Pittstown Strawberry Farm was
Meg’s,
Mum’s
and
my
special place.
It
held nothing
but joy
and
fond
memories, and I wanted to add
some
more
memories — memories with Stella.

“If the two of
you
have finished being
berry
idiots, we
can
actually go and pick
some,
yeah?” I suggested playfully.
“But
before we head
out
into
the field, Princess,
you
may want a toilet
stop.”
I nodded
my
head toward the restrooms, hoping she’d do
as
I suggested. Apart from wanting
her
to piss
now
as
opposed to when we were in the middle of strawberry picking, I also wanted a
moment
alone with
Judy.

Stella looked toward where I’d indicated and handed me
her
phone
and purse. “Good idea, thanks.”

As
she disappeared behind the swinging
door,
I turned to face
Judy.
 
“I
want the works! Strawberry pancakes with strawberry sauce. Strawberries
for
dipping and your most aged bottle
of
strawberry wine. I want strawberry
overload,”
I said quickly in a hushed
voice.
“I’m
going to take
her
out
into
the field, then bring
her
to the gazebo down the back when
we’re
done.
Can
you
please have
it
set up
for
me?” I knew what her answer would be
.
Judy
loved
the romantic shit involved with strawberries and was always going
on
about
how
much of
an
aphrodisiac they were.
Not
that I’d ever given two hoots about that fact in the past.

Clapping
her
hands
excitedly,
she then rubbed them together. “Leave
it
with me. I have just the
plan,”
she said greedily.
Jude
then squatted down to retrieve
her
notepad while adding,
“But
thank
the high heavens, I thought I’d never see this day
come.”

“Calm down,
I’m
not
proposing marriage or anything. I just want to give
her
the best Pittstown Strawberry Farm experience I can.” I gave
her
a
wink.
“This is my favourite fucking place, after all.”

Judy’s
smile
morphed
into
a scowl. “Language, Lawson Adrian Drake! Where are your manners?”